Read Just a Geek Online

Authors: Wil Wheaton

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Just a Geek (8 page)

So I hold up the bottle of water and I say, "I've been drinking this `Altair Water' all morning . . . and you know what I'm thinking? This isn't actually from the planet Altair. It's just regular water! So if you paid for it, I think you got ripped off."

Oh yeah, baby. It's comedy gold
.

The applause and cheering of moments before is replaced by the hum of fluorescent lights, as the first surly heckler shouts, (with the appropriate mix of condescension and contempt), "It's free, Wil!"

Self Preservation speaks up.
"Get off the stage, Wil. You had your chance and you blew it."

He's right. I've been on stage for 15 seconds, and they already hate me.

I try to shake it off, and move right into the Q&A. "Okay . . . uh, I only have 50 minutes here and I want to maximize our time together today, so here's the deal: I have some stories that I like to tell, but I also like to take questions from the audience, so you can direct the discussion. Since we only have a short time today, I'll answer the most frequently asked questions first: No, yes, umbrellas, I can't remember, and they were real."

Bingo, baby! "They were real!" How can they not love that?!

Silence. I see a teenager in a "Sexy women of Star Trek" T-shirt roll his eyes, as four Klingons sigh heavily and walk out.

Oh shit. They are walking out. I'm dead.

I panic.
"What's wrong?"
I ask Self Preservation.

"Hey, I told you to get off the stage. You're on your own, jackass,"
he says.

An experienced performer has a few jokes or stories that always get a good response. We call them "back pocket" material, and they are held in our minds for occasions like this. I decide to bring one of them out . . . but my mind draws a complete blank.

I have nothing, so I say, "Uh. Does anyone have any questions?"

I honestly expect someone to shout out, "How come you suck?" But nobody says anything.

I look at the crowd for a second, and I say with a smile, "Well then, I guess we're done here! Thanks a lot for coming, and have a great rest of the weekend!" I start to walk off stage, with every intention of continuing down the hall and into the bar.

After a couple of steps, though, they all laugh. Hard.

What?
That was funny?
Well, I guess after the water crack, pretty much anything is funny. Okay, I'll take what I can get at this point. I relax a bit and we get going. I begin to share my
Star Trek
memories, and the crowd gets involved.

A woman dressed as Doctor Crusher stands up and says, "Say hello to your mother!"

"Okay . . ." I say, and turn to my real mom, Debbie, who is sitting on the opposite side of the theater. "Hey mom! Thanks for coming! Do I still suck?"

The whole room turns to find her.

"No. You're doing great, honey," she says.

"Thanks, mom," I say.

I call on a cute girl who wears a babydoll "Social Distortion" shirt.

"What was it like to kiss Ashley Judd?" she asks.

I smile broadly. "Come on up here, and I'll show you!"

Huge laugh. She stands up!

"Oh! No! I'm just kidding!" I hold up my hand, and point into my palm, "my ifeway isay inay the eaterthay!"

I glance at my wife. She's laughing and shaking her head, and she winks at me.

I feel good. They're laughing with me and having a good time.

I call on an older man, who sits near the front, several bags of collectibles at his feet.

"Do you have a favorite episode of
Voyager
?" he asks.

"Well, The truth is, I've only watched
Voyager
a couple of times, and I really don't like it."

There is a little bit of a gasp.
Did Wesley just say he doesn't like Voyager?

I try to explain. "The episode was called "Scorpion," and I watched it because my friend designed the monster that terrorized the crew for the entire episode."

I hear angry sighs. People turn to talk to each other. Some of them leave.

What happened? All I said was that I don't like
Voyager!
What's the big deal? Lots of Trekkies don't like
Voyager
. Maybe I should have called it "V'ger."

A guy waves his hand rather urgently, fingers spread in the Vulcan "Live long and prosper" salute. I point to him.

"What was your favorite episode of
Deep Space Nine
?"

"Well, the truth is,
DS9
and
Voyager
just never appealed to me. The stories didn't interest me as much as the stories on
Next Generation
or Classic
Trek
," I say.

Big mistake. This is not what the fans want to hear. They want to hear how I love and care about these shows as much as they do, because that's exactly what they hear from the other actors. They get up on stage, and they give the fans exactly what they want.

Well, I don't do that. I tell them what it's truly like for me, warts and all. The truth is, sometimes being on
Star Trek
was the greatest thing in the world. Other times, it completely sucked. And, as blasphemous as this sounds, at the end of the day it was just a job.

But when all is said and done, I am still a fan at heart. I loved the original series. I am proud of the work I did on
Next Generation
. I cried when Spock died, and I saw
Star Trek IV
in theaters six times.

I failed to mention all that, however. Without that information, it can piss people off that I don't have the same unconditional love for
Star Trek
that they do.

I look at my watch, and I have 10 minutes left to fill. I have nothing to lose, so I reach into my back pocket . . . and find it filled with material.

"I have the limited edition
Star Trek Monopoly
game." I say.

"Of course, it's a limited edition of
65 million
. But it's extremely valuable, because I got a number under 21 million."

They laugh. It's funny, because it's true.

I go one better. "Plus, it's got a certificate of authenticity signed by Captain Picard!

"Yes, that's right, my
Star Trek Monopoly
game, which I've rendered worthless by opening, comes with a certificate of authenticity signed in ink by a fictional character."

I see a guy in the front row say something to his buddy, and they both nod their heads and laugh.

"Cool thing about the game, though, is that there is a Wesley Crusher game piece in it, and the first time we sat down to play it as a family, Ryan grabbed Wesley and proclaimed, as only an 11-year-old can, 'I'm Wil!! I'm Wil!! Nolan!! I'm all-time Wil!! I call it!!'"

I see some people smile. I start to pace the stage. I'm hitting my stride, and the stories flow out of me.

"One time, when we were renegotiating our contracts, we were all asking for raises.

"We all felt a salary increase was appropriate, because
The Next Generation
was a hit. It was making gobs of money for Paramount," (I like that word—
gobs
) "and we felt that we should share in that bounty.

"Of course, Paramount felt otherwise, so a long and annoying negotiation process began.

"During that process, the producers' first counter offer was that, in lieu of a raise, they would give my
character
a promotion, to lieutenant."

I pause, and look around. I wrinkle my brow and gaze upward.

"What? Were they serious?"

A fan hollers, "Yeah! Lieutenant Crusher! Woo!"

I smile back at him.

"My agent asked me what I wanted to do. I told him to call them back and remind them that
Star Trek
is just a television show."

Okay, that was risky to say. It's pretty much the opposite of just a television show to these people, but I've gotten the audience back, and they giggle.

"I imagined this phone call to the bank," I mime a phone, and hold it to my ear. "Hi . . . uh, I'm not going to be able to make my house payment this month, but don't worry! I am a
lieutenant
now." I pause, listening to the voice on the other end.

"Where? Oh, on the
Starship Enterprise
."

I pause.

"
Enterprise D
, yeah, the new one. Feel free to drop by Ten Forward for lunch someday. We'll put it on my officer's tab!"

Laughter, and applause. My time is up, and Dave Scott stands at the foot of the stage, politely letting me know that it's time for me to go.

The fans see this, and I pretend to not notice him.

"In 2001, startrek.com set up a poll to find out what fans thought the best
Star Trek
episode of all time was. The competition encompassed all the series. The nominated episode from Classic
Trek
was "City On The Edge Of Forever." The entry for
The Next Generation
was "Best of Both Worlds,
Part II
."
DS9
offered "Trials and Tribble-ations," and
Voyager
weighed in with "Scorpion II."

As I name each show, various groups of people applaud and whistle, erasing any doubt as to what their favorite show is.

"Now, look. I know that
Star Trek
is just a TV show. Matter of fact, I'm pretty sure I just said that five minutes ago, but there was no way I was going to let my show lose. It just wasn't going to happen. Especially not to
Voyager
—er, V'ger, I mean."

I pause, and look out at the crowd.

"So I went into my office, sat at my computer for 72 straight hours, and voted for
TNG
over and over again.

"I didn't eat, and I didn't sleep. I just sat there, stinky in my own filth, clicking and hitting F5, a Howard Hughes for
The Next Generation
.

"Some time around the 71st hour, my wife realized that she hadn't seen me in awhile and started knocking on the door to see what I was doing.

"'Nothing! I'm, uh, working!' I shouted through the door. Click, Click, Click . . .

"'I don't believe you! Tell me what you've been doing at the computer for so long!'

"I didn't want her to know what I was doing—I mean, it was terribly embarrassing . . . I had been sitting there, in crusty pajamas, voting in the
Star Trek
poll for three days."

Some people make gagging noises, some people "Eeww!" But it's all in good fun. They are really along for the ride now. This is cool.

"She jiggled the handle, kicked at the bottom of the door, and it popped open!"

The audience gasps.

"I hurriedly shut down Mozilla and spun around in my chair.

"'What have you been doing on this computer for three days, Wil?' she said."

I look out across the audience, and pause dramatically. I lower my voice and confidentially say, "I was not about to admit the embarrassing truth, so I quickly said, 'I've been downloading porn, honey! Gigabytes of porn!'"

I have to stop, because the ballroom rocks with laughter. It's a genuine applause break!

"She was not amused. 'Tell me the truth,' she said.

"I sighed, and told her that I'd been stuffing the ballot box in an online
Star Trek
poll.

"'You are such a dork. I'd have been happier with the porn.'

"I brightened. 'Really?'

"'No,' she said. She set a plate of cold food on the desk and walked out, muttering something about nerds.

"I stayed in that office for another 10 hours, just to be sure. When my eyes began to bleed, I finally walked away. It took several weeks of physical therapy before I could walk correctly again, but it was all worth it. "Best of Both Worlds,
Part II
" won by a landslide."

I pause dramatically, and the theater is silent.

"And it had
nothing
to do with my stuffing the box. It's because
Next Generation
FUCKING RULES!"

I throw my hand into the air, making the "devil horns" salute that adorns my satanic T-shirt, and the audience leaps to their feet, roaring with applause and laughter.

I can't believe it. I got them back. I say thank you, give the microphone to Dave Scott, who is now sitting on the stage pointedly checking his watch, and exit, stage left.

IF YOU LIVED HERE, YOU'D BE HOME NOW.

Star Trek: The Experience is split up into three main areas: a restaurant that features Quark's Bar, a replica of the
DS9
Promenade that is filled with memorabilia and souvenirs, and the actual Star Trek "Experience" itself, which features an amazing trip right onto the bridge of the
Enterprise D
.

The whole thing is built beneath a huge model of the
Enterprise D
that hangs from the ceiling in midflight.

This is my first trip to Star Trek: The Experience, and I gasp involuntarily when I see my spaceship hanging there.

Staring at this giant model now, which must be 20 feet across the saucer section, I recall the first time I saw the
Enterprise D
in flight, when Paramount screened "Encounter At Farpoint" for us back in 1987. I sat in a darkened theater, and when Patrick Stewart intoned, "Space . . . the final frontier . . ." I got goosebumps. The seats began to rumble, and there was my spaceship, cruising by. She was beautiful. When she went to warp speed, my mouth hung open, and tears sprung into my eyes. I knew that I was part of something wonderful.

I point at it and say to Anne, "Hey! Look! I can see my house from here!" I giggle, and she has no idea what I'm talking about, which is one of the reasons I married her.

Anne and I are a little overwhelmed by how large and detailed everything is, but we don't have any time to take it in, because as soon as we arrive, the fans begin to approach. They're all very cool and friendly. Most of them have seen my sketch show and want to compliment me on it.

"It's one of the funniest things I've ever seen," says one man.

"I haven't laughed that hard at anything, ever, in my entire life. You guys rocked!" says another.

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